TVF8: The Nest
by roxypony
Summary: It's Christmas Eve in Vampire Mountain and everything is basically terrible. (Just when you thought 2016 couldn't get any worse, I did another TVF.)
1. 1

Updated 2017 - I did a godawful job of uploading this last year so like, I fixed it and stuff.

The story itself is still terrible but at least it's all here now I guess?

* * *

Christmas Eve, 2K16:

Some days Darren wished someone had taken the time to read him the princely job description before investing him. Sure it was the only thing that kept him off the stakes at the time, but in his bitterest moments he felt he'd rather deal with that than meet with yet another bitchy princess-ass general about unlikely Vampaneze rumours or hold a trial over some minor discrepancy that nobody actually cared about. But naturally, the noble duty suddenly fell to the kid.

In the past month, Darren had presided at 5 meetings with the generals' council, supervised 4 different vampires' Trials of Initiation, let 3 accused traitors off with a warning rather than a steak through the heart (it was Christmas after all and he was a bit of a wimp), held 2 negotiation sessions with the Guardians of the Blood… all that responsibility, plus a literal partridge in a pear tree. Well, almost literal. Mika and Arrow had secured a beautiful Christmas tree (the only useful thing they'd accomplished in the past month) for the Hall of Princes but little did they know it was home to a particularly territorial partridge. Or something. It moved so quickly and aggressively nobody could identify it. Suffice it to say it was not happy about the re-location of its tree, and had taken it upon itself to dive bomb anyone who came within 10 feet. Except Harkat, who apparently was a fricking bird whisperer.

But there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Everything was going to be fine, because his shift in the Hall of Princes ended in 5 minutes and tomorrow morning, his vacation began. The first vacation in recent memory which didn't involve him hauling a horde of belligerent barbarians with iPhones. That's right, he was going it alone. To Vegas, to be specific. Ronnie had invited him to spend Christmas with her family. They'd bake cookies, go to beautiful concerts, shop for hours, kiss under mistletoe… it would be flawless. He'd spent the past month planning the trip; most of such planning included taking measures to ensure Vampire Mountain didn't follow him to Vegas. Again.

Things were looking good, though. Even his squad had been behaving better than usual. The aforementioned tree had been decorated beautifully and without prompting on Darren's part. Harkat had been baking a steady stream of cookies, which actually resembled the ones Kurda picked out on Pinterest. Mika and Arrow had decked the halls to within an inch of their lives and it looked admittedly spectacular. Armed with the hundred-foot ladder of death, they'd lined every main wall and doorway with massive evergreen boughs and wreathes. Kurda and Larten had tag-teamed the lower areas like tabletops and corners. Their combined areas of décor expertise could've been disastrous, but instead turned out to be the perfect balance of sparkly and old-school classy. Paris had finally installed the surround sound system he'd bought last boxing day and put together some of the best Spotify playlists anyone had ever heard. But that was only the beginning, he'd set up his very own radio station and was on constant broadcast throughout the mountain. It featured hits like "The Skyle Evening Report", "The Afternoon Fashion Police with Kurda Smahlt", "Cooking With Harkat", and "Why Life Was Better When I Was Your Age" (featuring Seba Nile. Obviously).

Life in Vampire Mountain was undoubtedly better than ever. Darren was almost sorry he wouldn't be around for the holidays. Then he opened a snapchat from Ronnie… nah, he wasn't really that sorry. Still, he was proud of his squad being all civilized and festive and whatnot. Maybe he'd even Facetime them on Christmas morning. This was going to be the best holiday ever. It's wonderful life and God bless us everyone!

He should've kicked himself in the face for letting his hopes get that high.

"Darren! Darren! Darrendarrendarrendaren!"

The Hall doors whooshed open and in ran Harkat, Larten, and Kurda.

"A good eve's tiding to you, my dear friends!" Darren boomed ('boom' is a relative term; he hasn't hit puberty yet). "How may I help you on this glorious night?"

"Oh my gods, Harkat. Look how happy he is. We _cannot_ tell him." Kurda hissed in a pitifully loud stage whisper. The little person narrowed his luminous green eyes in exasperation.

"The entire mountain… just heard you…. so we're somewhat obligated… now." Harkat sighed.

"I can't." Kurda whimpered.

"Sweet Mary, Jesus and Joseph, guys. What's the problem?" Darren ventured, somewhat unsettled.

Kurda and Harkat exchanged a dismayed glance. Larten rolled his eyes.

"By the black blood of Harnon Oan, you two are hopeless." The orange-haired man snorted. Then looked Darren in the eye. "Now, Master Shan. I know you are nearing manhood in years, although not in body. You are strong enough to gracefully bear the news I am about to give you."

Darren rose from his throne with what he imagined was an air of nobility, and descended the steps with equal finesse. He approached his mentor and set his hands on his shoulders.

"You can tell me anything, my dear teacher. I will remain strong and proud as you have always taught me." The boy prince eloquated.

Larten heaved a long sigh.

"Your flight to Vegas has been cancelled."

Darren giggled. He loved when Mr. Crepsley tried to make jokes.

"You're so funny. Now what's really wrong? Did Harkat spill flour all over the kitchen again?"

"You will not be spending Christmas in Vegas, Darren. Your flight is cancelled. Every flight is cancelled. Every road is closed. Even trains have stopped running." He solemnly handed Darren an iPad.

With shaking hands, Darren read the screen. It was a news page of some sort, showing an indiscernible glowing red map, and phrases like "snowmageddon", "second ice age", "everything cancelled, go back to bed", and "the end is coming". There were paragraphs of more detailed information but Darren was unable to read them on account of the mammoth tear globs forming in his eyes. He slowly handed the iPad back to Larten.

"Excuse me." He croaked, before power-walking out of the hall and all the way up to his cell where he proceeded to abandon himself to a fit of sobbing, pillow-punching, stuff-destroying, screaming profanities that even gnarly Arrow would flinch at, and a bit of intermittent squawking when he ran out of oxygen. Wonderful life, his ass.

###

"I don't hear anything." Mika noted, ear held to the outside of Darren's door.

"Perhaps he asphyxiated." Seba pondered somberly.

"Darren? Buddy? You dead?" Arrow called hopefully, knocking softly on the door.

"We made you… candy cane hot chocolate! And a… special cookie!" Harkat added.

"This display of nonsense is preposterous." Larten growled. "Not only did I teach the boy better than this, but he should be grateful he gets to spend the holidays in our company. He dedicated years to accustoming us to his traditions, and now that we are performing them masterfully, he decides to up and leave us in favor of his lover? Serves him right, I say."

"Why are you so harsh?!" Kurda griped, swatting Larten's shoulder with a pristine turquoise mitten.

"That is rather cruel, Larten. Even from you." Paris added reproachfully. "The boy was merely trying to spread his wings and leave the nest."

"He should stay in the nest. The nest will not break his heart." Larten retorted.

"Watch out, Creps. People might think you care." Mika rolled his eyes.

Larten muttered something under his breath. Nobody could make it out, but the word "preposterous" resurfaced.

"Enough of this. We're going in." Arrow declared, eyeing up the door.

"Derek Morgan style?!" Kurda gasped, resembling the heart eyes emoji.

"Derek Morgan style." Arrow affirmed.

"Lock and load, bring on the pain." Mika punched his fist into his other fist, a ritual display of masculinity or something like that.

And Arrow proceeded to Derek Morgan the door. He did so with such gusto that he did not pause to think that Darren might be lying on the floor, which he was, and that the door might land directly on his face. Which it did.

"Guys, look! He's alive! … Kinda."

The squad spent next little while testing a variety of doctor-ish skills that had been picked up over the years, and digging through the First-Aid kit Darren kept under his bed. The same kit Mika and Arrow had teased him mercilessly for.

"Why were you even lying on the floor? You have a perfectly good coffin." Larten chided as Harkat held an ice pack to Darren's purpling face.

"I was contemplating the infinite blackness of space and the insignificance of my life." Darren lamented.

"You could have done that in your coffin."

Kurda facepalmed. "What your mentor most dreary was _trying_ to say, is that… umm… you need to pick yourself up of the floor. Like, the metaphorical floor. And maybe the literal floor too… 'cause germs. The last thing you need is to contract Zika at Christmas. That would be ratchet."

"Where were you going with this?" Darren mumbled past the ice pack.

"Ummm… give me a sec…"

"Come on, buddy. It could always be worse." Said Arrow, as he wrapped a tenser bandage around Darren's sprained elbow. "You could be like, on fire or something. That would be pretty bad, right?"

"Do not coddle the boy. He should be grateful he gets to spend Christmas with his famil- I mean, peers. After all the years he spent forcing us to celebrate-"

"I already heard your rant. It's a pretty thin door." Darren growled.

"It's tougher than you though." Mika added as he finished securing an airboot cast to Darren's leg. "You'll be on crutches for a week. Vegas would be no fun on crutches, just saying. This is really a blessing."

"If I was still going to Vegas, I wouldn't have been lying on the floor contemplating jumping off the mountain in the first place."

"You don't know that." Mika lipped.

"Alright, young Shan." Paris launched into something that would _hopefully_ be inspiring because everyone else was out of ideas. "You can pity yourself all you want, but there is no helping your situation. It's almost Christmas and Vampire Mountain has never been more festive, and it is all indirectly thanks to you. You are a prince. Now, dust yourself off and set an example for your fellows."

Darren heaved a mournful sigh and stared at his feet for a moment or two, then slowly raised his head. This was it, in a second there would be hugs and apologies and happy tears and maybe a Christmas carol. But there was only hatred in his eyes and a cold lack of emotion upon his bruised face. Even Mika flinched. Darren case his blazing glare around the room and uttered three words that made present company doubt everything they'd ever believed in:

" _I hate Christmas_."

Paris and Larten clapped their hands over their mouths. Mika and Arrow went deathly pale as though they'd just seen the lowest level of hell. Harkat started to cry out of shock and confusion. Kurda gasped so hard he fainted for a few minutes. Seba muttered something about overturning the government.

"You do not mean that." Larten spoke up at last. "You love Christmas. You have dragged us into doing ridiculous activities every year, some of which have nearly cost us our lives, all in the name of festivity! I cannot accept this."

"Accept it. Christmas is where happiness goes to die. I quit."

And with that, Darren stood up abruptly and attempted to sashay out of the room in a dark, brooding manner… however he forgot about his broken ankle, and promptly tipped over.

"Harkat, pass me my crutches."


	2. 2

Several hours later, the gang (sans Shan) had congregated in the kitchen to decorate Harkat's exquisite sugar cookies, but there was no merriment to be found after Darren's outburst.

"That was the most fucked up thing I've ever seen in my life." Arrow recounted. "And I've killed like 100 people."

"It's like… he wasn't even Darren… anymore." Harkat lamented, accidentally pouring an entire can of sprinkles on one cookie.

"This is was the same child who wrote, directed, and choreographed an entire Christmas musical 9 years ago." Paris sighed. "I shall never forget as long as I live."

"And the same one who threw a literal tantrum when we fucked it up." Mika contributed.

"And cried again when we fixed it." Kurda added. "He doesn't have a flattering crying face _at all,_ but at least we know he meant it… Oh wait, Harkat? Are these cookies gluten-free?"

"And 3 years ago, when he saved the Stone of Blood from that atrocious Leopard boy." Larten griped.

"Do not be absurd, Larten." Seba hissed. "Young Shan did nothing that year but deny me of wifflewafers, cower behind the car seats, overrun his credit card on that girl-friend-woman of his, and then mash lips with her in the paper aisle at Staples. And then we almost _died_ in the most dishonourable way. That entire holiday was an abomination from start to finish."

"Where did he even get those credit cards?" Arrow mused.

"No one really knows. There was never an explanation given." Mika shrugged (then stared into the camera like he was on The Office).

"FOCUS!" Harkat screeched suddenly. Everyone cringed. Harkat had a deeply unsettling yelling voice. "How are we… going to fix… Darren?"

"Are we sure we want to fix Darren?" said Mika. "Think about it. We'd never have to do a human holiday _ever again_. We could be _normal vampires_ again."

"We installed a 5-car garage in the mountain and we have wi-fi. The normal vampire ship has sailed." said Larten grimly. "Besides, I can not live without my Bluetooth radio toothbrush. Our great ancestors would be disgusted but my teeth have never felt better. Anyway, I do digress."

"Remember the time Darren stole the ship?" Arrow reminisced.

"I bought that ship! Charna's guts, I'd completely forgotten! I literally own an entire ship." Paris gasped.

"The mystery credit cards strike again." Mika added with another long-suffering stare.

"It's in the garage?" Kurda gasped. "I've never seen it there!"

"Oh yes, it's parked right between the Escalade and Arrow's Hummer." (There was sarcasm here).

"Are you _sure_ about that?" (But not here).

"GUYS." Harkat shrieked.

"Dude. Don't do that anymore." Arrow groaned, covering his ears with jingle bell-shaped cookies.

"We're fixing Darren… and we're fixing him… now." Harkat vowed fiercely. "Now, listen up. We… are going to… finish these cookies. We will… wrap the presents… get them under the tree, pronto. Mr. Crepsley… find Elf on the… shelf. Whether Darren likes it or not… his Christmas is gonna be… _lit_."

"Please, Harkat, for the love of fuck. Do not light anything on fire."

"Mika, you are… one of my dearest… friends. But I will… light _you_ on fire if… the presents aren't wrapped… in one hour."

Everyone knows Harkat Mulds is a Lannister. He always pays his debts, or makes good on his threats, or however that saying goes. Darren is the only Game of Thrones expert in this mountain and he'd very much like to be excluded from this narrative seeing as he's still currently sulking in his cell. Meanwhile, in the North Pole (aka a large room higher up in the mountain which was declared a wrapping station by a label-maker-wielding Harkat) a very determined group was hunkered down in all corners trying to stealthily wrap their inter-mountain gifts whilst shielding them from prying eyes.

"So to whom belonged idea for everyone to wrap presents in the same room?" Larten complained loudly as he taped a sheet of reindeer paper to a slanted wall, creating a sort of teepee shelter in which he could hide his stash and wrap in peace.

"Because Darren spent… years… curating this collection of… wrapping equipment and if… I set you all loose with it… it's as good as gone… forever. It stays in this… room." Harkat explained tiredly.

"What even is this? It doesn't have a name on it and it's just sitting out in the open." Arrow pondered, holding up a box with what appeared to be an unassuming large-ish speckled egg. "And why are there 47 of them?" he gestured to a much larger Amazon box holding a much larger quantity of aforementioned eggs.

"It looks like a BeautyBlender. But a giant one. For gorillas." Kurda declared.

"Too soon, Kurda!" Harkat wailed.

"Harkat, Harambe is _so_ last May. Let's move on." Mika sighed.

"They're Hatchimals. I bought out a Toys R Us when I heard they were trending. Now humans are selling them at 300$ a pop. I'm going to sell them on Christmas Eve to the desperate stragglers to appease their brats. Who's _on fleek_ now?" Paris snickered.

"You're not using that word right." Said Arrow. "And judging by this receipt, you paid $299 for each of them, plus express shipping. I'm no mathematician but when you include tax, I don't think you're going to end up _on fleek_ even if you do get 300 for them."

"Bah humbug. When I was your age, we did not use all this fancy taxable currency nonsense. We ran on the barter system! If I needed my roof fixed, all I had to do was trade 3 of my finest cattle and my good neighbor would have it fixed within the fortnight! None of these colourful automatic toilet-plunging contraptions or ridiculous glittering glues or shower heads with 8 different jet options. No sir, just a humble man with his bare hands alone on my roof!" Seba hollered.

"None of those items are involved in roofing." Larten muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Glitter glue belongs with every DIY project!" Kurda protested.

"And I will tell you another thing!" Seba continued obliviously. "When I was your age, Santa did not go around catering to the whims of the children, oh no. There was no list-writing or sitting on laps. Whatever happened to the good old Naughty and Nice system, hmm? All you had to do was not be an obstreperous little hellion for 365 days and you would wake up to a whole apple in your stocking, maybe even a bar of soap! I remember one year I was graced with a block of wood for my very own. It was the best day of my life; I was a good boy all year and I earned every splinter of that block! I carved it into a teddy bear. He was my closest ally until my father used him as firewood in the great blizzard…" Seba trailed off sadly. "Godspeed, Alistair. I hope you found peace."

There fell a brief awkward silence.

"I never know what to expect when he starts talking." Mika grumbled. "Kurda, pass me the snowman wrapping paper."

But Kurda was overwhelmed by the emotional depth of Seba's tale and was currently using the paper as a giant shiny Kleenex.

"So are the Hatchimals supposed to go under the tree, or not?" Arrow inquired.

"I told you, they're an investment." Paris sniffed. "I'll just… sell them in 100 years when they're vintage."

"Wrap them anyway!" Harkat demanded. "Beef up… the present pile!"

"But label them for me!" Paris added.

"Perhaps we could put them in Darren's college fund." Said Larten.

"Darren cannot go to college. He is the only one who knows which remote does which stuff. Besides, when I was your age, we did not pay hundreds of dollars to memorize pompous texts pulled from the rear ends of pompous scholars! We simply carried on the family business whether it was doctoring or tooth-pulling or cattle-thievery! And we never cried about debt because we had none!" Seba was spiraling again.

"I wish Darren… was here to… laugh about Seba… thinking college costs just… _hundreds_ of dollars." said Harkat.

"How do _you_ know what college costs, Harkat?"

"I have… dreams. Now focus! This… segway isn't going to… wrap itself."

"WHO'S GETTING A SEGWAY?" Arrow bellowed, emerging from the den of wrapping paper and ribbons he'd been ensconced in.

"Not you. You were bad this year." Larten grumbled.

"I spoiled ONE episode of Stranger Things. Let it go!" Arrow whined back.

"I was perfect! I'm always perfect and you're always barbarians!" Kurda wailed. "I get the segway! Don't you laugh at me, Mika! I'm the one who walked in on you plucking your eyebrows last March and didn't tell _anyone_!"

Mika assumed a dangerously tight grip on the craft scissors and ribbon he was holding.

"I don't pluck my eyebrows! They're naturally aggressive! He's lying! I'M GOING TO STRANGLE YOU WITH THIS FUCKING RIBBON!"

Kurda yelped and tried to scamper to safety but slipped on a sheet of paper and went skidding into Larten's reindeer teepee. After picking himself up from the floor he attempted to make haste but ran smack into another wall- his vision was obstructed due to the 6 feet of reindeer paper that he was now entrapped in. Mika pounced and attempted to make good his threat of ribbon strangling. Larten and Paris descended into the fray, Larten beating Mika with a cardboard paper roll and Paris attempting to coax the scissors from his grasp while Kurda screeched: "save my hair first! I can't rock a bob!"

Meanwhile, Larten, incensed by memories of the past, spied an opportunity:

"YOU DO NOT EVEN LIKE THE SHOW, AND IT WAS THE FINALE, YOU IGNORANT SWINE!"

And with that he launched a full-scale attack on Arrow who was distracted by trying to pry Paris and Harkat off Mika who was blindly determined to finish his assassination of Kurda.

"OW CREPS, what the fuck man?!" Arrow whined as Larten attempted to gouge out his eyes – or pull his eyebrows off, he couldn't tell which. It was hard to coordinate ones' hand movements in an all-out brawl like this had turned into. Seba leapt into the pile and started throwing punches for no discernable reason. Harkat wept in the corner and thanked his lucky stars that Darren wasn't here to witness this. Then again, he'd dealt with brawls a time or two. Maybe he'd have something useful to offer… but seeing as he was a love-blinded teenager whose current priority was sulking in his room and presumably listening to obscure hipster music, probably not. Harkat wiped his tears and decided this task was beyond saving- he'd wrap everything personally once they all went to bed. Onwards and upwards!

"Guys… enough. It's time to… stop. Settle down. I'm serious… you're going to… hurt yourselves. There is already… blood on the floor. I'm not… cleaning that up. And you've… knocked Arrow… unconscious… again. I mean it now. Stop fighting! Guys! Stop!"

No response. Fine. Okay.

"WE… NEED… TO… MAKE… MORE… COOKIES!"

There was dead silence within a millisecond. The brawlers disentangled from each other and lined up as smartly as the kids from The Sound Of Music. Even Arrow came to consciousness as Mika carefully propped him up.

"To the kitchen."


	3. 3

It took almost half an hour to get situated, as a few cases required first aid. Arrow suffered a mild concussion but insisted he was fine. Mika used a glittering red ribbon to secure an ice pack to his noggin just in case. To return the favour, Arrow carefully applied several Spongebob Band-Aids to Mika's arm where Kurda had clawed him in self-defence. Seba had seemingly fractured his pinky finger in the struggle and it was sticking out at an odd angle so Larten constructed a splint using more ribbon and a candy cane. Seba thought it was the tastiest darn medical apparatus he'd ever experienced. And he'd experienced plenty. And Kurda had lost about half an inch of hair to Mika's scissors which nobody would've noticed in a million years, but it was an astronomical deal to him. Using even more ribbon, Harkat built him a fresh new weave to hide the damage. It was actually quite spectacular, until-

"He's shedding glitter in the dough!" Mika yelped "This is such a hazard, Harkat. I can't believe you allowed this."

"It was the… only way to… get him to stop… caterwauling." Harkat glared. "I did what… I had to. And at least… he's not _eating_ … the dough."

"It doesn't give you worms. That's an urban myth." Mika replied through a full mouth.

"I'm on fleek. The fleekest fleek to ever fleek." Kurda sighed happily, holding up a frying pan like a mirror.

"Okay Beyonce, these cookies are not going to cut themselves. Make haste." Larten directed, handing Kurda a tree-shaped cookie cutter. Kurda took one look at the cutter and affixed Larten with a withering gaze. "Oh for Charna's sake! What is your problem now?!" the orange-haired vampire exclaimed. The death stare intensified. Larten caught on. "Of course, silly me. You make the star cookies because you're the star."

Kurda grinned and accepted the cutter graciously.

"If you're the star, why aren't you sitting at the top of the tree?" Mika snickered. Kurda furrowed his perfect brows thoughtfully as though he thought this might be a reasonable idea.

But his thoughts were interrupted by a loud _BANG,_ a series of uneven footsteps coming from the hallway, and a loud voice calling out-

"LAAAAARTEN? Where is my sexy little elf?"

Larten's eyes went heart-shaped, and then she appeared in the doorway – covered in snow and lugging a set of Louis Vuitton suitcases… Arra Sails. You see, Arra stays away from the mountain most of the time because she believes things like Netflix and microwaves defile the vampire way of life and blah blah blah. But even the toughest of vampires can't turn down a fresh set of LV. Especially when they were last year's gift from her sexy little elf.

"They got back together?" Arrow grunted as Larten rushed to embrace her.

"They broke… up?" Harkat inquired in confusion.

"She's alive?" said Mika, looking into the camera like he was on The Office again.

"You're right." Paris sniffed. "By all accounts it doesn't make sense."

"Our lives do not follow any discernable plotline and the continuity is next to nothing." Seba declared.

"How do we even _get_ wi-fi inside a mountain?" Kurda added.

"I'm still waiting for answers about those credit cards." Said Mika.

"Welcome, welcome!" Larten blustered, picking up Arra's suitcases and pulling out a chair for her to sit on. "Sorry for the mess! Sprinkles up to the elbows, ribbon every which way, the east water closet is clogged and our fourth wall is broken! I must say, I was not expecting you for the holidays!"

"I was in the area." She shrugged and removed her hood, out of which fell at least 6 pounds of snow.

"Not in the cookies!" Kurda wailed, whipping his pan of dough stars out of the way of the avalanche – and accidentally launching them onto the floor.

"FIVE SECOND RULE!" Mika and Arrow hollered simultaneously.

"HOES… DON'T… DO… IT." Harkat screeched, holding up a sassy little grey hand. The two princes ruefully halted their advance on the fallen dough, thinking it best not to push the little person any farther. His eyes were already buggier than usual and he was brandishing a marble rolling pin.

"So do you still have Darren?" Arra asked, noticing a certain youthful absence.

"Of course we still have him, he is just busy at the moment. I think he is wrapping presents." Larten explained with bold-faced inaccuracy.

"You're a dirty liar, he's sulking in his room because his flight got cancelled and can't spend Christmas with his girlfriend and he's being a pansy about it." Arrow interrupted.

"And then we dropped a door on his face!" Kurda chipped in. "He has a concussion. He looks terrible."

Larten facepalmed in the mightiest way. Arra looked uncharacteristically concerned.

"The poor boy! What an awful day he's having! And you're all out here making cookies?" she gasped in horror.

"He will be fine." Said Larten with firm dismissiveness. "He is simply being a, what was the word, Arrow? Ah, a pansy. As in the flower. Because his emotions are delicate. Like a flower. Did I mention a pansy is a flower?"

"Stop trying to make slang happen. It's not gonna happen. Because you're bad at it." Kurda huffed under his breath.

"A real man isn't afraid to show his feelings, Larten!" Arra exclaimed. "Do you want him to become an emotionally-constipated old coot like you?"

"But he will be safer here! He is too young to be courting. What is his hurry to grow old and have his heart broken? The world is cold and cruel. He will not be hurt as long as he stays here where I- I mean, _we_ can keep an eye on him. And I will have you know I do not suffer from constip-"

 _"_ _You dropped a door on his face!"_ Arra protested. "I hardly call that safe."

"We didn't _drop_ it, we Derek Morgan'd it." Mika clarified. "Not our fault he's dumb enough to do his sulking in the middle of the damn floor."

"Doors these days are weak!" Seba added loudly. "When I was your age, doors were strong as this very mountain! We built them from the sturdiest rocks and the skulls of our enemies! If one of those fell on you, you would be smashed flat upon impact. And that was how we knew they were high-quality doors! None of this splintering stick nonsense, oh n-"

Kurda crammed a cookie into Seba's mouth to halt his tirade, at least temporarily.

"ANYWAY." Said Arra, with a roll of her eyes. "Would someone care to explain to me why you essentially left him to die alone? Concussion patients should never be left unattended! Who taught you basic first aid?!"

"Seba. We covered broken legs, broken heads, and… broken legs." Larten replied swiftly. Seba meanwhile had finished his shut-up cookie and while nobody was looking, had stacked 3 kitchen chairs atop one another in an attempt to scale the fridge and access the mountain's supply of chocolate advent calendars.

"Concussions are the silent killer, Larten!" said Arra.

"I get like 3 a week." Arrow commented bemusedly.

 _"_ _Bro."_ Mika facepalmed.

"I can't believe you're not on top of this. I know being paternal doesn't exactly come naturally to you, but this is bad." Arra continued. "Have you even checked within the past hour if he's still alive?"

"We're _surprising_ him with Christmas!" Kurda explained as though Arra was missing the most basic concept in the universe. "He said he hated it and wants nothing to do with it whatsoever, so obviously shoving it down his throat is the only _possible_ solution. Duh, Arra."

"This plan seemed way better before I heard it in those words." Paris mumbled.

"What's the point if he's dead?! By the black blood of Harnon Oan, you are the thickest bunch of men I have ever met!" Arra fumed, slamming her fists on the table causing Kurda to flinch dramatically and spill hot chocolate on Paris.

"Excuse me… I do not have… genitals. I am… no man." Harkat noted irritably.

 _"_ _Then you should know better!"_ she shot back.

"If you are so intelligent and concerned and medically inclined, why have you not yet checked on the boy?" Larten boomed in frustration, clawing at his small crop of orange hair.

"Because I just got here and I'm cold and I'm not his mentor-father-thing!"

"Oh _please_. There is no fathering involved in my mentorship of the boy. I am an educator to keep him from dying by his own stupidity!"

"Then why are you so relieved that he's spending Christmas here after all?" Mika snuck in.

"Yeah Creps, you literally used the phrase ' _the nest'."_ Arrow added.

Larten proceeded to scoff some incoherent explanation of his wording, but he was cut off by a sudden shout from the doorway and the haphazard group greeted their second surprise visitor of the day.

"Guys, stop yelling! You're making my head hurt. I can hear colours. And I'm seeing triple… Are you making cookies?"

Darren Shan, in all his bruised and beaten glory, came hobbling into the kitchen. And immediately slipped in the cookie dough Kurda had dropped.

"That wouldn't have happened if we'd eaten it." Arrow mumbled.

"Get up, you are making a scene." Larten muttered as he rushed swiftly to help Darren back to his feet and half-carry him over to a chair.

"You guys argue loud as balls." Darren babbled. "Can I have a cookie dough? Hi Arra. Welcome to Christmas hell."

"You should not eat cookie dough. It will give you worms. Besides, I thought you were boycotting Christmas. Now drink your peppermint hot cocoa." As he often did, Larten toed the fine line of doting and mentoring.

"The worm thing isn't even true. Have as many cookies as you want, lil buddy." Said Mika, sliding the baking tray full of un-baked cookies over to Darren.

"He will get worms!" Larten wailed.

"Has he not been asking for a pet lately? What pet could be lower-maintenance than a worm?" Seba contributed.

"I was thinking like a bear cub… or a mountain goat." Darren mumbled.

"I do not think so, young man! You will lose interest in a week and I will be stuck looking after it. Bear cubs and mountain goats are for life, not just Christmas."

"But I'd love it and feed it and-" Darren began to object, but was cut off by a large and unidentifiable flying object suddenly colliding with the side of his head and promptly knocking him off his chair.

"It's the fucking partridge again!" Mika growled, whipping out his sword.

"Where were you storing that?!" Kurda wanted to know.

"That's not a partridge, that's an eagle. Actually, from this angle it look like a goose. Or maybe- I have no idea, let's just stick with partridge." Paris sighed as he watched it circle the room in no particular pattern as it prepared to divebomb the crowd again.

"It's an asshole." Arrow glared up at it, shaking a fist.

"Looks like you already have the pet thing covered." Arra commented dryly, holding a cookie tray over her head like a shield.

"That thing is not one of us. He snuck in with the Christmas tree." Said Larten with great irritability.

"Where's the Christmas tree?" Darren asked blearily from the floor.

"In the Hall of Princes, right where you left it." Larten affirmed.

"Can we open presents now? It's after midnight. I'm sorry I was a douchenozzle earlier. I don't hate Christmas. I love you guys. Now can someone please lift me off the floor? The ceiling is spinning."

"That's the fan, honey." Said Arra as she helped Larten lift the delirious young fellow back to his feet.

"No, the fan is still. The rest of the ceiling is spinning."

"Oh honey, no…"

"We went through all that trouble to cheer him up but all he needed was a partridge to the head. Typical." Mika grumbled.

"To the tree!" Larten declared.

"But the presents aren't wrapped, remember?" Kurda gasped in a very audible stage whisper. "We did too many shenanigans and Harkat redirected our energy to a different activity."

"He's clearly been reading parenting magazines." Arra snickered.

"YES… THEY… ARE!" came a great yell as Harkat skidded into the room. "Come on! Let's open them!"

"Damn Mulds, you are magical." Mika declared. "How'd you do that?"

"Very… quickly. I ran back… upstairs when Darren… came back to us… and finished it."

"One little person cannot accomplish more giftwrappery in 10 minutes than 6 fully grown vampires can in 2 hours. I demand to see the math on this!" Seba objected loudly.

"Seba, you taped ONE thing and spent the rest of the it giving us a history lesson. Be quiet." Mika snapped.

"And he threw hella punches. Don't forget the punches. You have the sharpest little fists. Did you know that?" Arrow mumbled, rubbing a bruise on his arm as they made their way down the long corridor from the kitchen to the Hall of Princes.

Seba thought about that for a moment, and replied:

"Yes, I did."

And then they stepped through the doorway into the hall, beneath the evergreen boughs that had carefully been placed on the archway by Mika and Arrow just days ago.

"There it is, Darren. Your perfect Christmas tree. It would not be here without you." Said Larten with a hint of warmth and maybe even half a smile.

"I don't see a tree." Said Darren, blinking repeatedly. "But when did we get a giant pyramid of rainbow lights?"

"That _is_ the tree, sweetie…"

"Oh. I think I might have a concussion. It was a big door."

"You might, Darren." Sighed Larten, patting him on the back. "You just might."


	4. 4

As per the norm, the Vampire Mountain Secret Santa gift exchange was a wild affair.

Mika's secret Santa was Kurda- Kurda gave him a wheelbarrow of black studded clothing, a lot of which Mika actually liked, as he admitted begrudgingly. And also a Kylie lip kit which was Mika immediately re-gifted back to him. It was the best Christmas of his life.

Larten's Secret Santa was Paris- who renewed his yearly memberships to every video streaming website from Netflix to HBO, and hacked Netflix so Larten could watch the next season of Stranger Things 1 hour before the rest of the world (and he planned on spoiling all of it for Arrow, who didn't actually like the show but that's beside the point). In addition to this, he also gave him a pair of fuzzy red socks. It was the best Christmas of his life.

Harkat's Secret Santa was Arrow. He gave him a set of bongo drums, a plastic helmet that could hold 2 canned drinks with straws that could reach the wearer's mouth, and he even hand-made him a booklet of coupons for Tall/Strong Person Services. For example, they could be redeemed at any time if someone needed help opening a jar, or reaching the chocolate advent calendars on the fridge, breaking a wall (maybe the fourth one again), etc etc. For his first act as a registered Tall/Strong person, he let Harkat sit on his shoulders so he could look down on everyone for a change. It was the best Christmas of his life.

Paris's Secret Santa was Seba. Seba declared he was giving out free hugs. Well, he said he was. He failed to actually produce any hugs on that day, and added that there would be an 11$ surcharge per hug when he eventually decided to provide them, which he would do at his own discretion. Everyone agreed that his history lessons were enough of a gift and that hugs weren't necessary. But worry not about Paris, Harkat caught wind of Seba's plans and ordered Paris a drone which he could operate from his iPad. Obviously it was the best Christmas of his life and Harkat was a saint.

Kurda's Secret Santa was Mika. Kurda looked absolutely overjoyed as Mika handed him a small box wrapped in turquoise ribbon. It was a stunning men's watch, shiny carbon black in colour with a dazzling array of diamonds set into the face. On the back was engraved a touching inscription- "I don't hate you ." It was the best Christmas of Kurda's life (again, since also retained possession of the lip kits).

Arrow's Secret Santa was Larten. He received a fuzzy wool sweater covered in penguins. He opened it and stared down at it, stone-faced. Larten looked apprehensive at first; Arrow was a lot bigger than he was and he didn't look impressed. Then he threw his head back and laughed uproariously.

"I love it! Look at them! Guys, look! Did you see them? Look at all the penguins. I CAN WEAR ALL OF THESE PENGUINS!" And he put it on immediately and smiled smugly for the rest of the night. It was the best Christmas of his life.

Seba's Secret Santa was Darren. Darren took Secret Santa very seriously and took the time to prepare Seba a gift basket featuring a collection of his favourite things: a box of waffle mix ( _wifflewafers_ as Seba called them), a rubber ducky, a jug of eggnog, fuzzy socks with rubber grips on the bottoms, a Grumpy Cat hoodie, and a hat with furry ear flaps. Seba promptly upended the basket and wore it as a hat, ignoring all of its contents. It was the best Christmas of his life.

For a final plot twist, _everyone_ got segways- courtesy of Harkat. He was supposed to be Secret Santa for Darren, but was actually a happy accident. He meant to order one for each of them. Their little legs made it hard to keep up with the big vampires and he figured they could use a little extra power. But he accidentally added 8 to his cart on eBay, rather than just 2. But no one was complaining- except Darren, who wasn't allowed to play on his until he was concussion-free, and even so he would be forced to wear a helmet and full protective gear by decree of Mr. Crepsley himself. Maybe it was the concussion, but Darren's annoyance was short-lived.

"I love you guys." He sighed peacefully. "Even though you're not my girlfriend and this isn't Vegas and the room is spinning again."

"Maybe you should go lie down." Arra suggested with concern.

"That's a grand idea." Darren muttered, sprawling out in the wrapping paper remnants and pulling them around him like blankets until he was sufficiently swaddled. Larten rolled his eyes and tucked a cushion under the boy's head so it wasn't resting on the ground. "My life hurts." Darren declared. "Can I have some drugs?"

"We got you, fam." Said Mika, holding out a pack of Advil.

"Pick your poison." Arrow added. He produced heavy-duty Tylenol.

"I don't have drugs, but I do have Tic Tacs." Paris added.

"Tic Tacs are the best drug of all the drugs!" Darren chuckled happily, waving his arms up at the 3 princes.

"Not that you would know about drugs." Said Larten reproachfully.

Darren continued to giggle at nothing in particular. And there it was, another saved-from-the-brink-of-disaster-at-the-last-possible-second-by-impossible-circumstances-after-getting-wildly-out-of-hand Vampire Mountain Christmas in the books. Safe for another 365 days. Maybe next year Darren would get to spend Christmas with his girlfriend, but for now (to Larten's immense and invisible relief) he was still very much in the nest. A nest of shredded wrapping paper to be exact. In fact, from an aerial view it almost looked like a manger. As Paris's new drone arced towards the ceiling snapping photos, it captured a moment that looked very similar to a scene found in many human homes around this time of year. In the wrapping paper manger lay a concussed and oblivious teen-baby. Around him gathered 3 kings bearing gifts of Advil, Tylenol, and Tic-Tacs. By his feet sat a little drummer person testing out his new set of bongo drums with no great skill. To the west, a grizzled old man was shepherding a handful of mountain goats towards the gathering. (How Seba had summoned these goats into the mountain on such short notice was anybody's guess). Perhaps they were drawn in by the light that was being emitted from the tree- Kurda had made his way half-way up, determined to be the star at the top. He wasn't quite high enough to overtake the star but his white cashmere bathrobe and gold tinsel weave did give him the appearance of a very self-absorbed angel. He _would_ take that star out or die trying. And what Nativity is complete without a couple of mildly concerned parents? Larten and Arra were quietly arguing back and forth over whether they should take Darren to bed or let him snooze beneath the tree. Darren didn't care either way; after all there were a few hundred more Christmases just like this one to look forwards to. Maybe it _was_ a wonderful life.


End file.
